Legacies Abroad
by The Dystopian Utahraptor
Summary: Drabble compilation -Micro, Mini, and Full- of the adventures of a quartet of close friends known simply as The Horsemen, far from their native-caverns on a search for their missing predecessors. -CanonxOC ahead- -Rated for later events-
1. Entrance: Microdrabble

Lumino Ore, light dappled through tree canopies rustling with a heated breeze, a blessing and a curse if not taken aback by the beauty of the place.

The Pit thrums, a warm subsonic humming to a wordless tune, rhythm beat out in the roaring of twin cascades above. Corridors carved out of the rocky walls, leading to lit streets of houses, finely-clad people of mixed origin moving to and fro; in groups or alone.

The islands, suspended and anchored over the abyss, connected with a series of bridges, landscaped with rich-green grasses and towering trees, spots of vibrant color from flowers of tropical origin, patches broken only by the addition of quaint buildings along lamp-lit roads. Crystal water flows, directed by human hand, from island to island, pouring over the sides.

Friendly folk, always with a kind word and 'good day', always willing to point in the correct direction or to somewhere new. Colorful faces, little Fandangos, poking out from trees and foliage to greet those who pass.

It is hard to believe a tropical paradise can be hidden away within a magnet.

* * *

**A/N**: So a few people have told me to start posting these drabbles here, on FF, in the hopes that it will give me more of an audience in lieu of the actual fanfiction story I am planning and will be writing. Beware: CanonxOC ahead. You have been warned.

Pardon the incredibly short opening here; this is just introductory. The rest get steadily longer up to the microdrabble compilations.

I **_do_** take Pairing/Prompts for microdrabbles; they are usually posted en masse, in installments. Some are left free due to subject.

Slugterra and all affiliated is Nerd Corps  
The Horsemen, Babel, and the Pit are mine  
Other OCs mentioned are their respective owners


	2. Homesick

The sound of rushing water was always in her ears, even when she slept. Dredging mental imagery of the cascades of home, the drains that fell into carved pools to drain downwards and help keep terra firma green and flush.

Every time she heard it trickling, War felt homesick for the fresh clean air, the echo of torrential downpour across the enclosed walls, humming out the drone of life in the caverns. A backbeat, something to sync the heart and breath to.

_Life._

The higher caverns rarely sported such wonders, such heavy sound. Ruin, once so perturbed by the constant noise that conducted everything in his first washing down into the irrigation ditches, had even started to show signs of missing it. She would catch the little Negashade also looking longingly at small water features, both man-made and natural, as they passed. Once or twice, she found him on the banks of such, reaching little arm toward it. A feat, to be sure, for such a small guy who had been terrified of water as a whole for so long outside hydration purposes. He was getting less and less afraid of it lately; she caught him bathing in a trickle once. When he gave her a sheepish look as though he had not wanted to be caught, she let him to it and congratulated him on passing such a big hurdle in his little life. She never knew Negashades glowed along those pretty light-blue markings until that point, when he offered up the biggest 'smile' she was sure he could muster to mimic the faint pulse in those swirls and dots. Learning something new every day…

_Bucephalus_ was trudging on beneath her now, her mind filled with the mechanical drone of joints and pulleys, shocks and suspensions. Ruin was curled up against the crook of her neck, napping, as she leaned against the warhorse-mech's broad and elegantly-sloping neck. The mechanized stallion would follow the others; his GPS system was synced to Death's _Ianmo_ at the head-point, and would alert her to rough terrain later.

Steady sway, rhythmic whirring and clunking beneath. Eyes closed, head resting on her lower arms. Somewhere, midst the metallic clunking and droning, came another noise. Soothing, low-key roar, something she subconsciously synced her breathing and heart-rate to.

_Water._


	3. Spar

There was something in the way she moved. The way each step was placed in and out of combat, practiced and eased with years of experience to tell.

Admittedly, when he had first come across the development that War was stricken with otherwise-debilitating weak ankles, Thaddius was surprised that she could move the way she did. Certainly, those braces helped take off the strain, but the biggest shock was how accurate she was with them.

He was discovering just how easily controlled she was with them now, after a request to a sparring match. Figuring that this was a regular thing with her group, he had decided to entertain the notion. You did not keep a weapon and let it become dull or rusted, after all; you had to upkeep it, maintain it. Hone it.

Granted, he had expected her to move quickly, given her background in basic physical combat. He had not quite expected the speed and precision in which she moved. Not at first, at any rate, but he soon adjusted to it. Using the bowed supports of her braces as springs had given him a couple of surprises so far, her brutally-upfront assault style met with nothing short of something equally-aggressive on his side. Everything had been employed, she held nothing back, and her deceptive feinting skills were admittedly superior to his own; one of her strikes using such method had come dangerously close to hitting its mark, grazing close enough that had she been using a knife, she would have cut skin off his nose and cheek.

He had finally recognized the process of the feint, memorized it. By the time she had moved in for it, he presented her with an appropriate counter, moving half a step back to accommodate the distance he would need for it. One hand wrapped about the offending wrist, a small twitch of his own pulling her arm to one side and her closer.

It was probably not a good move in the long run, really, but worth it if to see those dark blue eyes glimmer in obvious surprise at being foiled for once. Such expression caused a low rumbling chuckle to loose from him.

"Now. What has been the lesson this time."

As soon as the words left him, her face changed. Once she made full contact against him, that shock had left her, replaced by that dastardly grin of hers. His mind resorted back to the last thought, that this had been a bad idea, when she answered, melodic accented tones almost sickly sweet.

"Zat if you use ze same tactic a few times, your opponent vill let you in on zeir own." A twist of her captive arm against his thumb, forcing him to let go before she took two steps back and aimed a particularly familiar Blaster at his forehead, a determined-looking Speedstinger already settled and ready in the chamber; where it had come from was a mystery in itself. A quick check at his right hip proved that yes. He was indeed staring down the barrel of his own Blaster. "Und here I t'ought I told you 'No veapons, especially Blasters'. Rulebreaker…"

Rather than feeling any sort of mortification to being held at point, Thaddius simply remained calm, shifting his head to one side with a quirked smirk beginning across his face, muted green eyes making easy contact with War's abyssal blue. "You have absolutely no idea how this thing works, do you."

Already, he could see the exasperation take root over her body, most especially in the comically insulted expression that spread across her face. "It's a Blaster. How hard can it be to vork a Blaster."

Ah, the window of opportunity arose and, needless to say, he took it. "Consider, my dear, that my personal Blaster has the capabilities needed to launch not your standard arsenal, but my Ghouls." There was a hint of a laugh in the last word, carrying over into the next sentence. "I cannot say I know what it would do to yours there, but I am certain it might be fascinating to watch."

There was a pause. Her knees locked straight, shoulders and jaw squared in thought as a precaution against losing stance should he take the opportunity to attack while her guard was down. She was calculating, the way her eyes glazed slightly showing it all the more. Lips pursed; obviously, his curiosity was not worth anything that could happen to the Speedstinger that was now giving nothing short of a worried look outside the chamber casing at her.

Her arm slacked, lowered the weapon and pulled her arm in. His hand had resumed its location at her wrist, the other already reaching for the commandeered Blaster. "Good girl…"

She relinquished it with no struggle, though snatched the Slug crawling out of the chamber protectively with her free hand. "…You vin zis round…" was admitted quietly.

A small rumble in his chest sounded before he verbally responded proper. "New lesson." Eye contact was resumed, making absolutely certain there was no mistake in whom he was addressing. "Never. Touch. My Blaster."

It was accompanied by such being returned to its place, that familiar weight back. With that handled, attention was returned to the ebon-maned beast of a woman he still held captive, free hand reaching out to tilt her head up almost affectionately so as to meet her eyes at level.

"Good match."

Such praises were not heard often, she knew. The usual devilish grin fell to something of a smile matching the fondness behind his own movement. Unspoken, only one of careful eye would see anything even resembling doting.

She pulled her arm from his grip with little resistance. "I suppose I vill see you in un hour, ja?"

His hand pulled back, folding behind his back with the other in his usual authoritative stance, head tilted up just enough. "I look forward to it."

A rather unconventional farewell as ways split, but these things rarely lasted longer than they needed.


	4. Cliche

Something was not right with this. Enough to make Thaddius pause mid-proposition to look down at the muted midnight-blue Slug that had seemingly appeared from nowhere, carefully inching forward with antennae lowered.

Typical disgust for the creatures was replaced with surprise. In general, Slugs avoided the man altogether. This set off several warning bells, and not because Thaddius Blakk was being approached by a Slug. It was what the Slug was.

Negashades were rare enough, but this one seemed familiar somehow. Green eyes narrowed in thought. He only knew two people who had Negashades.

One was long-dead and had taken hers with her. He had seen to that, himself. This couldn't be hers.

It was the almost timid demeanor that gave this one away. What was its name? Something devious, most uncharacteristic of the little beast itself…

Somewhere behind his right shoulder, Maurice coughed discreetly. "…Doctor?"

It was just enough to cause the corporate monger to look briefly at his assistant. "Can you remember the name she gave the Negashade?"

For a moment, confusion spread on the other's features before it caught up with him. As Thaddius had kept his voice low in volume, just between them, he responded in kind as soon as he realized the context of the question. "Ah … I think it was 'Ruin', Sir."

There was a small squeak of acceptance from the Negashade, still resting all four limbs to the ground and looking up with antennae pulled further back.

"Ruin. Of course, a name most unbecoming of the little monster." Small sneer twitched upward on Thaddius' face at the recognition. One thing did plague at the back of his mind though; if Ruin was here, where was War? Rarely was the oddity of a woman far from her precious little Slug and she was nowhere to be seen, not even a wisp of that untamed ebon mane or glimpse of those abyssal blue eyes.

It was in that moment that he put the two together. Ruin's approach, the distinct missing of its favored perch. Even now, the small squeaks and trills after being acknowledged were beginning to sound like a call for assistance.

"…It appears something has come up unexpectedly. My associate will have to carry on in my stead. I do hope you'll show him the same apt attentions you have given me thus far…" There was venom in that voice, accompanied by an almost sinister smirking smile. A glance downward to where the Negashade had appeared showed empty space. That explained the sudden silence… No doubt, Ruin would show up as soon as it was needed.

Quick glance was given around the area, receiving small, discreet nods from various goons encircling the rapt audience. So long as they stayed in place, the deal was sure to go through. Attention turned to Maurice as he began passed him. "Thrill them, if you would. Sell it. I will send you coordinates later on where to send the Express."

Maurice responded with a nod as he moved forward to take his place. "Yes, Sir."

With Maurice's voice booming out the planned propositional piece behind him, Thaddius concentrated his attention elsewhere. Namely, the once-missing Negashade laying as close as it could get against the bull's head of his TH1-DR. He regarded it with the same amount of disgust as before, narrowing his eyes at it as he approached.

"Don't get used to this. I wouldn't hesitate to _Ghoul_ you otherwise." was hissed at the little creature through grit teeth, causing it to shrink closer to the metal surface under it. "In the meantime, make absolutely certain that you do not disappoint me. Else you still might be."

It took less than a minute to mount the hulking machine, settle onto the seat, and turn the ignition. The mech roared to life, the start-up check lighting the center console first before displaying various system monitors. Green eyes looked from the console to Ruin, peering up from the crest of the bull's head before crawling up to rest on its neck, just out of reach. Smart creature…

"Show me."

Though short, the message was clear. The Negashade picked it up immediately and looked around, antennae sticking up briefly. Before long, it anchored itself to the metal plate beneath it, antennae flattening to its head, and trilled, pointing with a stubby arm in one direction. The engine roared, the TH1-DR guided out of the area and into the main cavern before picking up speed. A dusty barren with little to no actual resources of use, it did offer a considerably shorter route to a cavern on the opposite side that was home to one of the mines and refineries owned by Blakk Industries. If this deal went through, he would be able to lay down another set of tracks through the cavern and cut eight hours off the Slugterranean Express' journeys, to and from.

Ruin changed direction, pointed its little face to the left. Thaddius took the cue, turning the mech to change accordingly, to which the Slug faced forward again for some time. The ride itself was silent, save for the sound of the bull-mech roaring its way out of the small town into the wastes beyond. The Negashade proved unobtrusively useful, much to his chagrin of having to rely on it to begin with. Ruin did know what it was doing and where it was going, leading him by way of pointing its face in various directions until he was taking the path indicated. The way was smooth, up until the yawning maw of one of many canyons littering the area rose up in front of him.

He slowed to a stop just outside of it, looking to the Negashade still perched on the ridge of his mech's neck. The look he gave it was none too kind. "Do you take me for a fool, you little _wretch_."

Paranoia had bubbled just slightly to the surface, but it was rightly justified; Thaddius was quite well-aware of his standing with many people, most especially his current with those in this particular cavern. The high rock walls on either side of the path ahead could hide almost anyone or anything and he would rather not be caught by surprise. That was inevitable, however, when Ruin lost its usual demeanor and proceeded to sound off a series of squawks and squalls he could only take as being yelled at.

It did not last long, the shock evident on his face at the Slug's sudden change shifting fluidly to nothing short of a snarling glare. "If she weren't so fond of you…"

He didn't have to finish it. The spitting venom in just the spoken piece immediately silenced the Negashade into its usual cower. It slid from its perch to the ground before proceeding ahead into the constricting confines of the canyon. Green eyes scanned the high walls carefully, following along the top ridges as far as he could in an attempt to spot anything out of place. Any cuts or landfalls that might have been man-made, any wisp of another human, any unusual noises. All that met him was smooth rock, a faint whistling breeze close to the ground, and the sound of a Slug squawking away further ahead. Ruin, no doubt, complaining about its current lot in life.

A brief glance to his right hip assured him that his Blaster was where it should be and always had been, right within range in case he may need it for any reason. With a final sweep of the area to make absolutely sure nothing was amiss, he urged the bull-mech beneath him between the towering rock walls. The ambiance was drowned out with the rattling engine, Thaddius keeping tabs everywhere above, around, and behind him. He wanted absolutely no surprises. After rounding a corner further into the canyon, the path widened a bit and a glint of metal against the far wall caught his eye. Immediately, his hand moved, hovering close to his Blaster as a precaution before he saw the ornately-embossed plating, enamel-black with embellishing gold and red swirling motifs along the edges and seams.

The antique warhorse-mech he recognized as _Bucephalus_ was resting just off the path with a dent and visible burning in the black plating on one shoulder and corresponding side that was undoubtedly detrimental to movement, its eyes dim as opposed to the usual golden glow. Even switched off, the neck was straight, the head canted slightly downward, giving off a sort of prideful intimidation. They did not make the horse-mechs like that anymore, that much was obvious. A flash of blue at the horse's right flank caught his attention, eyes spotting Ruin bounding down with an audible huff to the ground.

Coming to a full stop next to the STL-1 and making certain the location was as secure as it had proven so far, he pulled free a small hand-held device, opened a map of the area on it, and scrolled until he found the nearest designated set of Express tracks. At least a half hour out at the closest point, here was to hoping she was not in any critical condition. With a tap, coordinates were set for the designated pick up, sent with a second tap. A third was set to his current location. If _Bucephalus_ was unable to move, it would have to be picked up and relocated. A quick look over the area on the map was given to distinguish all possible routes to the pick-up point before the pad was replaced in its designated spot, the TH1-DR powered down before he dismounted.

Almost immediately, something near his foot caught his attention. A thick sliver of hard ceramic, white save for a polished red edge on one side. His brow knit, bending down toward it. He paused halfway, head turning slightly when he caught sight of a trail. The ground here was softer, a drag-wake prominent from the warhorse around the next corner, pocked in some places with darker spots against the pale soil. Ruin was already on its way around the corner, chittering and squeaking.

Concern was beginning to rise, worry now for her well-being once he recognized the rusty discoloration of the spots, fueling his progression after the Negashade. The uncertainty of what he might find caused a small yet noticeable tightening in his chest until a short bout of familiar melodic laughter sounded. It was followed closely by, "Villkommen zueruck, Ruin." It didn't sound cracked or pained and the knowledge that War was conscious and alert caused him to simultaneously sigh in relief and internally scold himself for thinking otherwise.

"I can tell by your smug little smile you actually found someone close." she continued, a squeak coming from Ruin in response. He could see her now, just enough to tell she was rubbing the Negashade's head with a fingertip between its antennae and that she was carefully keeping her lower legs balanced on the braces' heel supports. "So who ist mein rescuer, mein little paige?"

The opportunity for proper introduction arose and he took it, back straightening as he fully rounded the corner. "You know it is a sad day when Thaddius Blakk takes orders from a Slug." Her head turned, fluidly and without a start, black-blue eyes giving him knowing acknowledgement. She had known he was there the entire time, just was unsure of who he was until he had announced himself. "I never pictured you the 'damsel-in-distress' type, my dear. Is this something new you are trying for?"

Her lips thinned a bit at his teasings, placing Ruin on her shoulder. "Stuff it. I broke somet'ing." There was a pause, an almost disgruntled expression crossing her face as her eyes lowered off to one side. "…A couple of somet'ings."

He bent down next to her, fingers of his right hand lifting under her chin so that their eyes were level, green to blue. "It explains why you are favoring your ankles…" He trailed off, running his left index finger along a trail of dried blood up one side of her face to a healing cut above the brow. "I do not think I would have known you were here if it hadn't been for your Negashade."

Quirk of her lips turning up. "Honestly, given who followed him, I'm surprised Ruin came back to me in ze same condition as ven he left."

"To be perfectly blunt with you, I rather like my skin and head attached and in one piece." A quick inspection of her showed the mask resting at the crown of her head was cracked, the sliver he had found near the horse-mech from the red painted spot in the forehead. She had the cut over her brow on top of her ankles rebroken. There were likely other cuts and bruises beneath clothing and armor that weren't shown at the moment. "What exactly happened?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Don't really know. Vas scouting ahead, sudden cloud of red und ze ground dropped out from under me, I left Bucephalus, landed flat on somet'ing. Felt ankles snap, fell forvard, hit mein head, hit ze ground, told Ruin to find help, pulled meinself under cover. I vasn't sure if zey'd come back to try to finish ze job, but I vasn't going to be a sitting duck for it."

There was a twitch in one corner of his mouth, a prominent snarl forming. Someone had caused her harm, with intention of doing so. It set off a chain reaction internally, a holocaust to be contained in little more than a twitch. It would be bad to lose composure here. "Did you happen to see who it was that opened fire?"

The question had come out with more malevolence than he had intended, saturating the air enough to make Ruin shrink back and hide among her loose ebon mane. It did not make War back down, her brow furrowing as she shook her head in response.

"It happened so fast, I didn't even catch a glimpse before I vas falling. Ze only t'ing on mein mind at zat point vas to correct und redirect ze fall so I could sustain as little damage as possible."

He let go of her chin, directing his gaze to her ankles. "There is still damage done."

She offered him a sheepish smile in return. There was a light strain across her face with it, no doubt trying to hold in how much physical pain she was feeling in that moment. "Maybe zey'll heal right zis time."

Her attempt at lightening the mood seemed to work, a small quirk of one corner of his lips given to reassure her. Still, there was a storm brewing beneath the surface, a resolution to find closure to the situation, one way or the other. He had to keep it contained, for the moment. There were still priorities to attend.

Green eyes snapped back up to her blue. "You can be moved, yes?"

Her hands moved, checking the braces, before looking back to him. "Ja. I should be fine to move, so long as zey don't bend und I don't put any veight on zem. Tightened ze support bands earlier, so zey should remain stationary."

He gave a single nod of understanding, extending an arm behind her. "Lean back, if you would."

She was practiced in this, likely from the accident that had broken her to begin with. Slender body leaned back against his supporting arm, legs lifting the braces carefully off the ground. He moved fluidly, one motion to sweep her up and hold her supported at back and knees, one arm of hers wrapping about his broad shoulders as extra support. Without moving his upper body too much, save minute changes to keep balance, he rose to stand. His grip shifted to better situate her weight against him before starting off back toward his mecha-beast.

After a moment of silence, she placed her head against his shoulder, her free hand against his chest. "T'addius…?"

He tilted his head to look down at her. Realizing she likely couldn't see the acknowledgement through the chin-edge of the cracked mask, he settled instead for a low questioning rumble, something she would feel through her hand.

She took the cue, though he could see her lips draw themselves into a thin line before she responded. "I'm sorry…"

What _was_ it with her and the Negashade today? Both had managed to draw that same twinge of confusion out of him.

Before he had a chance to reply, she continued. "I pulled you avay from somet'ing important, didn't I."

Low rolling chuckle escaped him at that. Was this what she was worried about? "It's nothing Maurice cannot handle, I can assure."

"I still pulled you avay from somet'ing important to save mein ass." she huffed, fingers against his chest curling in a show of sudden emotional instability. "You are using resources you shouldn't, for me. I'm sorry."

Again, he attempted to reassure her with that low laugh. "To be perfectly honest, I thought we could use a small element of the cliche in this relationship. Me carrying you out of trouble and the resulting clean-up seems to fill this niche. Besides." Upon approach to the parked mechs, he placed her at the front of the seat of his before continuing. "If I really thought of you as a burden, my dear, I would not have come at all."

That drew those thinning lips into a small smile for him, returned to her in full. "I suppose you vouldn't. Probably haf even caught und Ghouled mein Ruin in retribution."

"Oh. Now _there_ is a thought." He was teasing now, saw the exaggerated scowl on her face at it. She knew it, just as well.

"Zat's not funny."

Of course, the retort still didn't stop her from moving against him once he settled in behind her, carefully helping her into a more comfortable position before starting the engine. "Well. I thought it was rather amusing."

She scoffed at him, hand reaching up to grasp the mask at her crown, pulled it back and down to allow her the ability to look him straight in the eye from below. "Of course _you _vould. It doesn't affect you."

With the systems lit green, he urged the TH1-DR forward at a steady pace, looking down briefly at her with a tsk. "Such an attitude. Your mother would be shocked and ashamed."

He felt the deadpan in the stony silence that followed more than he saw it creep over her face. "Mein mutter ist _dead_, you ass."

Her retort did little more than draw another rumbling chuckle out of him, though he made no verbal response for some time, leaving the navigation through the remainder of the canyon to silence. It helped him keep a vigilant eye on their surroundings, in the case her fear of the unknown assailant returning proved true.

The high walls petered out into nothing and the tracks for the Express were glinting in the distance when he felt her shift closer to him without agitating her carefully-placed ankles. It was an interesting movement to glimpse, the way the muscles in her thighs did the work and the lower legs remained completely still. A fine display of precision and control. Once she was comfortable and had stopped moving, she began.

It wasn't too much, small talk. He learned of the progress of the Horsemen across Slugterra, that they had found a lead that lead them off in a completely unexpected direction. About how someone in some cavern or another only remembered the caravan they were chasing because the protective cover had come off one of the carts and the exposed magnet sheets shut down everything in the cavern…

Thaddius merely listened, offering a counterpoint here and there, but kept her talking. He recognized the tactic, quickly. Heard the continued strain in the undertone of her voice. War was proud. It came with the title, the element she personified. Pride kept her from curling in a ball and sobbing in pain. He could barely imagine the amount she could be feeling and though the broken ankles were properly stabilized, the movement of the mech below them both likely caused irritation. The thought merely dredged the anger he had barely tamped down before. When he got his hands on the little wretch that did this…

"So, vat _vere_ you doing so close?" she asked, punctuating his bloodthirsty musings like a pin in a bubble.

He answered with little more than a half-smile. "_Industry_, my dear. Progression, expansion."

A small smile crept across her face. "Ah. Ze usual."

He loosed an equally small laugh at that, but before he had a chance to respond properly, the familiar sound of a train's horn rent the air and resonated around the vast chamber. Green eyes were directed to the tracks again, catching sight of the sleek silver bullet-head of the Slugterranean Express gliding along the tracks towing a single car. The suspension on the Express was considerably better than any mechabeast and would be better for her on the long journey back to the Citadel. The brakes were put on, the engine coasting to a stop right where he had indicated before with a squeal of metal on metal. As soon as the Express had come to a full stop, the door on the side of the car slid open, revealing the stocky frame of Maurice.

"Everything alright, Doctor?" he asked, stepping down to meet the pair halfway. He gave a small nod of greeting to War, who returned it with a slight cant of her head as the mech was braked to a slow stop.

Thaddius dismounted first, offering his arms to her again as she moved and slid back into them with favor to her ankles. "We seem to have had a bit of an … altercation."

Maurice chuckled a bit, following him into the car. "Isn't that usually how it is."

Usually, the bout of humor would have at least drawn something amused out of Thaddius. This one drew nothing short of a seething glare, accompanied by a hissed, "She didn't start this one." His companion backed down with a muttered apology, giving him cue to continue. "I do hope there is good news in concerning our visit."

Seeing he was back in good graces, Maurice delivered the results. "Blakk Industries owns this cavern as of an hour and fifteen minutes ago. The contract was signed and is currently filed appropriately to wait your attention, Sir. We're maintaining a strong presence while the rails are being laid and a continued presence after to keep the rabble down, so to speak."

"Expecting trouble, are we?" There was that amused tone, creeping up from seemingly nowhere once War was properly consulted as to where was best to set her down. One of the armchairs in the sitting area of his personal car was her first choice, a good spot to keep weight and strain off the breaks.

"Apparently, there's a rebel group that frequents this particular cavern who is strongly opposed to … industrial takeover." The taller man looked briefly toward the stricken Prussian as she was placed per her orders across her chosen seat. "My guess is they caught sight of the red and black color scheme and opened fire."

"How astute of you." The snarl was back, though not directed at any one person. He managed to reign it in again, just barely, giving one of her hands an affectionate squeeze. Something reassuring. He was greeted with her eyes finding his, a small nod. Understanding, she remained silent, gave him a soft smile to better reassure him of her position as well. "That is what I needed to hear. Stay with her, Maurice."

Maurice moved out of the way to allow him passage back to the door before following along behind him briefly. "Sir?"

"There should be something in terms of basic painkillers somewhere in here. They will not do much, but it should help in-transit…" As soon as he stepped outside, he turned enough to look over his shoulder. "I will be back to the Citadel on my own time. See that she has everything she needs, what she wants. I have … unfinished business to attend."

The taller nodded. "I'll keep her safe, Doctor. See you back at the Citadel when you make it back."

Thaddius gave little more than a nod of acknowledgement before the door closed, turning his attention instead to a pair of his men standing near the engine, awaiting any further orders. "You two. Come with me. We have a loose end that needs to be _tied up_."

No longer needing to keep a calm facade, his voice now bubbled raw malevolent venom.


	5. Resuscitation

**For a prompt sent to me on the Tumblr.**

**Summary: **_War suffers some form of head trauma and wakes up to see Thaddius' rare show of humanity._

**There should be more details to it, I know. I'll probably rewrite it at some point WITH details, but for now, have some pairing barf.**

* * *

There was a dull throb, rising steadily into a more prominent notice. The typical subsonic thrum in the back of her mind was soon drowned out by it, escalating to a point it drew a noise out of her. Her voice was raspy, cracked, likely from disuse, a loud ringing beginning to overtake her hearing.

Low voice pierced the gloom, echoing first and pushing the ringing noise back before it focused. "You're finally waking up. This is good."

Eyes fluttered open before shutting again, quickly. The light hurt, caused the dull throb to jump to a sharp pain, a small whimper escaping. There was a slight pressure to her forehead, light filtering through her eyelids blocked. _Sweet relief…_

"You hit your head." That low rumble of a voice, slight lilt of surprised amusement as though he could not believe she could take such a blow. "You've been out for two days."

Her brow furrowed, partially against the pain and partially in thought. Either way, it didn't help much, only made the throbbing headache worsen just slightly. Or maybe that was just the thinking.

Carefully, she let her eyes open again, her vision fuzzy before beginning to focus. She caught sight of the leather on the glove of one hand, shielding her gaze from the harsh light in what she recognized as his private living quarters. At least she knew her memory wasn't too badly damaged…

Her attention turned down to her right arm, eyes taking note first of the tube running from her lower arm. He followed her gaze, head shifting slowly.

"Ah. Yes. When you did not wake after the first day, I had you put on a drip." His free hand moved, still slow, to the flow control on the tube. "With how much you consumed within the first several hours of being on it, I can honestly say I'm surprised you hadn't dropped dead from dehydration."

She made a noise, distressed in opposition to the obvious medical attentions, before trying to lift her left hand in an attempt to remove the tube from her. His free hand was brought around, wrapped over her left.

"Don't try to force yourself to move or speak. Get your bearings properly, we will do another check later." It was very matter-of-fact and solid, meant to dispel any attempt at rebellion, both physical and verbal. "I do have a few matters to attend, but I will be back."

Carefully, the shading hand was pulled from its place, causing her to flinch just lightly as the light brightened against sensitive eyes. With a click, the light dimmed to more tolerable levels, allowing her eyes to open again without worsening the brewing migraine.

The leather of his gloves, the calloused pale fingers gently cradling her face felt cooler than usual. Perhaps she was feverish? The thought was interrupted, notice taken of the small smile spreading across his face.

_Relief._

Perhaps he let it out right when he thought she couldn't quite comprehend her surroundings. Even in the light kiss placed against her forehead, there was an almost uncharacteristic tenderness. In that simple movement, she was aware enough to pick up the pent worry built in the past couple days, dispelled in a single act of mild affection.

He held the spot for the moment before speaking again, sitting back, composure returned. "Unfortunately, progression does _not_ stop for head trauma." He rose to stand, leaving a glancing squeeze on her right hand. "I will see to it Maurice keeps an eye on you. Until I return."

She offered a small smile of her own, as much as she could, in reassurance before he shut the door to begin the maintenance of his empire proper. By the time Maurice arrived on his rounds, she had already dozed again.


	6. Plummet

_Voices._

Mama had said voices were coming from the Pit. Did she really hear them, like Death heard them? Or was it a trick of the Pit?

"My condolences, friend War."

The new voice, outside her door, the light blazing from under it. She could not move, had pulled muscles, strained joints, and above all, her ankles were compromised. But she could still sit up, could still hear, even through the haze of painkillers that barely worked. The voice outside her door, low and sympathetic, was not one of the other Horsemen. She recognized him from his timbre as one of the miners who had caught her and pulled her up. Papa spoke next, his own voice low in volume and cracked. He had been in mourning for a week or two now; how much time had passed was melding together, an effect of the painkillers, no doubt.

"I am sorry she caused you all so much trouble…"

"Do not apologize. Exposure to the Pit has been known to cause such delirious outbursts, as you know. Granted, this is the first time it has taken a life that I remember." There was a pause, Papa sniffed a little with renewed grief. "Unfortunately, due to the nature of it, we will be unable to locate, much less retrieve, your wife's remains for a proper burial."

"I know, I understand."

"As much as I hate to say it, concentrate your efforts on your child. How is she?"

"Suffering, but we think that as long as she stays put, she will heal properly."

Another pause, tentative. "Make sure you keep her off her feet then. The next generation is counting on her."

There was silence after that, a few noises. By the time the voices started up again, they were far away, the haze of the medication taking root once again. Murmurs, growing further and further from her, a dull aching throb prominent most in her lower legs.

".._.li…gir..._"

New voice, familiar, frightening. It snapped her eyes open from the drug-induced sleep, heartbeat on the rise.

"_...m…litt…girl…_"

Echoing now, around the room. Still familiar, still menacing. It was accompanied shortly by a whirring and a clicking. It sounded like a Blaster powering up, but being shut off, over and over, like the Pit was wont to do with anything magnetic that was unshielded.

**whrrrclk  
whrrrclk**

Distant, strange. Part of her drugged mind concentrated on where it might be coming from, the drowse growing heavier and more encompassing. The more she focused on it, the quieter it became until it was drowned out by the low familiar roar of water, Euphrates rumbling down into the irrigation channels set up for her, the torrential cascade and her sister, Tigris, controlled in complete and pounding out the rhythm of the caverns. For a moment, it was just her and that dull ambiance. She was beginning to let the medication take over again and drift to sleep when it happened again.

"_where is my little girl_…"

Mama's voice. The estranged weeping tone on it sent shivers up her spine. _Mama is in my room with me… Please don't be angry with me…_

Head turned toward a corner of her room, dark. Whether it was the painkillers themselves or it was actually there, she caught sight of a single white limb, waxy with the pallor of death. Clawed fingers reached forward, toward her, followed by a pair of those black-blue eyes she had inherited rimmed yellow undoubtedly from creeping decay.

"**_There she is…_**"

* * *

Mama had not been born of Babel, like the others. She did not speak about her home caverns often, merely spoke of how she had fallen in love with War. The man was a bit odd to her, she had said, but not unkind. If anything, he showed her affections no one else would. As a result, she followed him back home, back to Babel and her Pit.

Almost immediately, she had began to complain about headaches, though she had been assured that this was just the heavy magnetism. Much like altitude sickness, it would pass if given time. As expected, it did lift and soon, she was active in the society. She had found a steady job helping maintain the aesthetic landscaping on the islands and prided herself in knowing she had merged well into a society that did not judge her as others back in her native caverns had for her lineages.

Her marriage to War was celebrated throughout Babel, as she would bring in a new generation of Horsemen to help protect for decades more to come. The pair were happy for their first year and a half together, rarely fought or had any altercations. Mama had conceived after two years of marriage, proud that she would be the one to help usher in a new War, one to take her husband's place after he had retired the title.

Following the entrance into the second trimester, her overly-bulbous size was proof that she bore twins. Both her and her husband were overjoyed at the prospect. Two children to handle would be a handful, but together, they were sure they could take anything that came their way. It was not until the last leg of the third trimester that something happened. Mama was visited by a series of sharp pains, more severe than the standard contractions she should have been having at that point. At first, she thought nothing of it, until she came to realize she was sitting in a pool of blood.

Long story short, her labor was forced and her twins were born prematurely. The first born was healthy, a baby girl who was set to screaming immediately to clear her lungs. The second arrived into the world without breath.

Stillborn, _dead_. A lot of names for a simple concept.

Devastated, Mama became depressed, as expected. War, distraught for his wife's condition, offered to send the infant off properly. As per normal in Babel, the body was given its final rites and cast swathed in white and gold cloth into the Pit.

Mama recovered from her grief quickly, something that concerned many people at the time. Had they known what was to come, they might have helped her then and there. But with promises that she was just fine, they went against their gut and left her well enough alone with her surviving child. Surprisingly, the survival of her first twin seemed to help her keep a level head. She kept that head level for four years.

It happened suddenly one night, while she was brushing her daughter's hair after the evening bath. Her hand stopped moving rather suddenly, her head turned as though she had heard something. This was unusual for Mama, her little girl asking if someone said something in the half-German she was picking up from her father. Mama assured it was nothing, went back to the task at hand. These spells happened on and off for a week. Mama said nothing. She should have.

It was shortly after celebrating her daughter's sixth birthday that War finally cornered his wife and asked her about them. As they were becoming more and more prominent with each passing month, he was becoming concerned for her well-being around their child. She admitted it there.

"I have been hearing things. Voices."

Concern grew, she was seen by one of the resident doctors. While her body was fine, the loss of one of her children had caused a sort of mental rift. Combined with her inexperience with the Pit, she was probably hearing the deep thrum of the magnetic rock walls and imagining them as voices. While it did not seem to be something to be too concerned about, it was still advised that a close eye should be kept on her.

Mama grew worse. Day by day, she would mutter to herself and claim it was to the voices she heard. She had to quit her job in landscaping, for fear of doing something she might regret. The voices got louder, she said. Louder and louder, almost deafening.

Finally, after eight months, it came to a head. A single loud shout, then silence. She claimed she was better, began to move back among the society she loved so much. Her husband was happy to see her recover, happy to know he could speak to her again without worrying about her trancing to talk to someone he could not see.

The victory was short-lived, a calm before the storm. Within three months following the silence, she looked to War and said very clearly, frightened, "They have come back. They are _crying_ now…"

The words were enough to send chills up one's spine. Religious and spiritual leaders saw the woman, even Death himself with his ability to speak to the dead. No one could communicate with whatever entity had chosen the stricken woman as its mouthpiece. Several times, she had been found wandering close to the Pit, brought back. One final calm, a week of silence, before the escapade ended brutally.

It was a quiet night, as quiet as it got in Babel with the cascades constantly echoing their dull thunder. War was gone with Famine, escorting one of the caravans taking magnetic plates to one of many Forges outside the caverns.

Mama was restless, murmuring under her breath more than usual, actions repeated for hours on end without her knowledge and regarding the world through glazed eyes. Her daughter, seven years old, remembered her absent-mindedly making note about something to do with the Pit. The voices were at their loudest, she said, above even the low thrumming of the natural magnets and the roaring of the river-cascades, crying and asking for aid. She wept, pleaded, to be let out to go to them, to help.

The way her dead eyes centered above the child's head was enough to make the girl feel threatened. Unsure as to the nature of the woman she had regarded as her mother once and honestly afraid of physical abuse should demands not be met, she entered the code into the pad by the door to unlock it. A murmured thanks was all the woman gave in acknowledgement before she made a weaving path to the edge of one island, the closest she could find where the rails were low.

She was followed by her child, the little girl running after her and knowing now that there were others in shouting distance who were more capable of restraining the woman than her small frame. Her voice raised the alarm, the familiar form of Death melding from shadows behind the road lamps and running after the pair, others soon to follow from houses and businesses along the main stretch.

Mama had climbed the railing with ease, a simple hoist over the lower support bar so that the arches of her feet were balanced across the edge of the island, nothing more than air between her and the abyssal Pit below. Head turned, carefully with body, to face the child she had bore and raised, arms outstretched once precarious balance was settled.

"Come with me. We can go and help them together."

Child stopped, assuming she was out of reach of the crazed older woman. People shouted, thunder of combined footfalls across the island toward the scene. Little ebon-maned head shook, tentatively at first, but with more vigor the more the elder insisted. When she made to back away, fingers like claws finally found their mark around her upper arms.

"You are coming, I may need help."

Shock as the ground left her, the railing flying below into obscurity and the turf disappearing in a flash, engulfed in swirling black of both the Pit and Mama's own black curls. The fear and disdain of those who would be rescuers falling away against the far ceiling of the caverns above. The look of rage on Death's painted face as bronze eyes watched the pair fall before Creole voice thundered, above the raging torrents of water and passed mother and daughter, deeper into the Pit.

Shouts rose back, equally loud, going back up, blaze of light from the open-sided mines lighting the dark walls. Miners running like ants in mass lines in a frantic attempt to catch the pair. The feeling of rope loosely embracing her ankles, Mama's once-drugged gaze shifting to a horrible rage once she saw the tethering net.

Grip tightened, her hold on her daughter iron, resolute. "_No_! You are coming with me!"

Taken aback by her calm elder's violent shift, loud ear-piercing scream loosed to reflect such terror. Netting pulled taut, course changed direction suddenly in promising to fling them toward the Pit wall, Mama's weight yanking hard on frail little body. There was a pop, a grotesque grinding, like wet wood splintering. Sharp pains shooting from lower legs up, cry of both fear and pain. Mama's grip faltered in an attempt to reassert itself. Distance put between mother and daughter, the former clawing at the air, at the net, at anything that would bring her back.

Mama fell, screaming about how she had been betrayed, vicious in those last moments before the inky black of the Pit finally swallowed her retreating form. Daughter was not paying much attention to such threats, shock continuing to wrest its way through her veins, stunt reaction and blocking out the pain of not only the assault, but colliding with the Pit wall.

Somewhere deep in her mind, abject fear of the depths arose, punctuated by thoughts of how hellish it looked with the light from the lower mines glowing ember red.

Somewhere, she was unsure where, she recognized the whispering. Recognized the deep rumbling voice of the Pit, a low subsonic thrum that hummed a dissonant tune in her young mind, imprinted the abyss somewhere in the back and reminded her of watching her mother fall.

The image remained implanted even after the sight was gone, pulled into the mines, midst shouts and rumblings of the large mining mechs that had been brought for ease of transport. It blocked out the pain shooting up from where once-sturdy young ankles now laid limp and splintered. Blocked Death standing over her as a form of comfort in her father's absence while the local doctors tried to properly set them.

It was not until War returned home finally, with sad news of his wife's loss and his daughter's injury, that she broke her trance and cried for him, with him. Depression set in, War trying his hardest through his own grief to be strong for his little girl. To keep her happy and safe. It did not help that she heard him at night mourning the loss of Mama.

It did not help that Mama was not yet finished with the job given her and returned a mangled corpse every night in a desperate vie to give herself some company on her road to Hell.

* * *

Light punctuated the inky black of her room, shrieks alerting those still in the house to dealings with the ghost. Papa rarely saw such things, left those details to Death. But he understood distress.

"..._w…no…wi_…"

Phantom spoke, went unheard by War as his arms reached down to scoop up the child cowering and sobbing on the floor. "Oh, mein kleine Fae. You're not supposed to move. You're supposed to stay put."

Rumbling German voice would have comforted otherwise, but was deaf to his daughter, black-blue eyes fixed on the haunting image still present in the corner of the room of Mama, bent at odd angles and almost flat, revealed in the light from the hallway.

_Maybe there is a bottom to the Pit..._

"_…__why…not co…with…_"

Broken jaw moved, stuttered. Shattered claw-like fingers, bone shards sticking out at odd angles, reached forward again, made a waving motion as though to beckon her daughter to her when she could not reach through her father's comforting embrace. Papa was leaving now, had to leave the room. He did not hear or see the ghost, not like his child did. He was unaware of its existence entirely, concerned more with making sure no further damage was done to his little girl's splintered ankles in her attempt to get away from the spectre haunting the corner of her room.

"_…__why…not come…with…_"

Another pitiful grasping, stumbling from the corner.

".._.come with me…_"

In the light, Mama looked less frightening, more pathetic. Maybe that was Papa's influence, maybe it was the sight of the fruits of the woman's labor showing itself differently without the dark obscuring and playing tricks. The clicking noise was back again, fainter this time.

**whrrrclk**

With news that she would not walk the same due to her flight from the spirit, Mama stopped coming, her work done. The clicking only sounded when a Blaster was attempting to be fired or when an unmodified mecha was trying to start within the influence of the Pit. But every once in a while, wearing the braces near where Mama plunged, through the safety netting put in place to better avoid complications in the future, the abyss would murmur and remind War of its existence and that it waited for her return one day.


	7. Microdrabble Compilation I

**_Pairing_****: BlakkxWar ****_Prompt_****: HS-AU Gifting a Car**

_Someone in the complex has a new car…_ First thought through her mind when she clicked her way passed the dark blue monster sitting in the spot at the base of her stairs. _Nice one too, lucky bastard…_

Not that she was hating on her precious R75 parked beneath the awning nearby. It just wasn't that great for adverse weather. She was not expecting to turn about and see the key with the same emblem on it dangled in front of her face. Eyes trailed up, spotting Thaddius balanced on the stairs in front of her with a smug smirk on his face.

"…You're un asshole, you know zat?" she pouted up at him, watching that expression falter a moment in confusion. "I get you a toy gun und you show me up vit' a car. You. Are. Un. Asshole."

That smirk was back, starting to spread into a grin at that. "Ah, but I am _your_ asshole…"

She couldn't keep a straight face at that, flash of a hand snatching the baiting key from him. "Touche…"

**_Pairing_****: BlakkxWar ****_Prompt_****: Wedding AU**

"Absolutely lovely, my dear."

Crooked grin was beginning across her face. Being clad in the heavy embroidered silks and satins, layered to accentuate her build properly and give her a more feminine appearance than usual, the silver circlet, the shimmering veil meant nothing more than she looked beautiful. It only masked that devious nature of hers further, muttered reply given back to him.

"I had better be; zis _ist_ ze ensemble you seemed to enjoy most."

It had been shared opinion that superstitions were unreliable things and thus, he had not only bought the thing for her, but seen her in it prior to the ceremony as well. Granted, this was the first he had seen her with her hair properly bound and tressed, wrapped with the roses and lilies agreed upon. Perhaps a small amount of the superstition remained, dispelled now.

Low chuckle, hand raised from locked fingers at waist level, brushing a lock of that ebon mane what had come loose to rest in front of her face, listening offhandedly to the judge ramble on. "Indeed. It looks better with that glow."

Such compliment was unexpected, it actually caused her to lose face momentarily. Head lowered, flushing of her cheeks evident against ivory flesh and making the scar on her nose stand out all the more. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught an uncharacteristically soft smile out of him for her bashfulness.

**_Pairing_****: Gabe and War [as platonic friends] ****_Prompt_****: Dancing**

"You know how to dance, ja?" Purr of a voice was raised to the redhead in front of her, watching an almost bashful blush cross his face at it.

"A-ah, yeah! At least … I know how to dance ballroom, not really anything else…"

Any other ramblings were cut off once German reached forward and grasped his hand, pulling him to her. "Vell. Ve'll just haf to do a fusion style…"

"Fusion…?"

"Oh ja. You keep ze beat, ballroom steps. I can embellish a bit."

Light of understanding crossed Gabe's face at that; it was obvious that he understood what she meant now. First few steps once positions were taken were slow, methodical, getting used to the other's movements and whatever beat he set for the moment.

"Ready?"

"Yeah. Go for it."

Flare, swirl. At first, one of her floating swings almost pulled him off-balance, more for the surprise of the move than for her weight or strength.

"Got to keep anchored, make sure you keep ze beat." It wasn't really a scolding as it was a reminder, something he took to heart and with the next float, he barely budged.

Before long, movement was little more than second-thought, the musty air punctuated by the voices and laughter between the two echoing off old bookshelves.

**_Pairing_****: Blakk and Will [as platonic frenemies] ****_Prompt_****: HS-AU Nerf Gun**

"Thaddius, I need to talk to yo—"

Regret. The moment Will had opened the door into the vice's office, there was an airy **thnk!** and the feeling in one spot of … was that a suction cup? Had to have been, since Blakk was slowly laying what looked like a toy pistol down on one side of his desk, straightening up with absolutely no emotion on his face.

"Yes?"

Shock wore off almost immediately, Will's lips pursing in annoyed thought.

"You know what? You seem busy right now. I'll just come back later."

As the door was shut and the Principal pulled the dart off his forehead, he could have sworn he heard a low laugh sound from the office.


	8. Microdrabble Compilation II

**_Pairing_****: Eli & Random Female OC [Platonic/potential Romantic] ****_Prompt_****: High School**

"Uhm… excuse me..?"

Low, uncertain voice drew Eli's attention up from the textbook he had buried himself in. Blue eyes greeted him, lowered once his made contact, small flush starting to creep across the face of the raven-haired girl in front of him. She looked lost, a bit nervous.

"Hey, there. You look like you need help?"

It was an offer of assistance with a flash of a friendly smile. His reward was a meek nod.

"I'm new here and I don't really know where the Biology labs are?" She held up a slip of paper, with the class, room number, and designated instructor printed on it.

He took it, looked it over, his face splitting into a wide smile. "Well, you're in luck. That's my next class." he assured her, handing it back and nodding down the hall over one shoulder. "You can follow me in, I'll fill you in on what we've done so far."

**_Pairing_****: Eli and Random Female OC [Platonic] ****_Prompt_****: Western**

Cold silver gaze looked over the top of the bar, toward the door as a familiar figure strode into the building. Small quirk of her lips were given, though the attempt at expression failed her once again.

"Dobryy den', Sheriff." Smooth yet apathetic voice wafted through the air, chill on the heated air of day. "Looking for Kord? He's next door. Somedhing about fixing a vagon vheel…"

"Good afternoon to you too, Evey." Eli chuckled a bit. He didn't really know what the Russian was saying, but given the context, he wagered a pretty good guess. "Yeah, but since he's busy, it can wait. Not too important."

"Vell, I can get you a drink vhile you vhait, if you'd radher." she offered.

He shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Dhe usual?" she asked, pulling a glass from a shelf behind the bar.

He gave her a goofy little half-grin. "You know me too well."

A laugh greeted him with that. More of a chuckle, really, but it was genuine. "You run dhe local 'vhatering hole' and you get used to your regular patrons…"

**_Pairing_****: ChancexEli ****_Prompt_****: Victorian**

"See something interesting in the clouds today?"

Chance snapped from her thoughts, looking to one side with an indignant huff at Eli, who was giving her one of those quirked goofy half-grins. Lace-gloved hand tightened around the parasol over one shoulder, the other balling just slightly.

"I see you still have very little tact, _Mister_ Shane."

"Yeah, well…" He paused, expression falling slightly at the realization of her returned taunt. "Hey, now. I have plenty of tact!"

She gave a small laugh, turning away from him with head slightly lofted. "You will have to prove that to me."

**_Pairing_****: GabexLace ****_Prompt_****: Modern**

The roar of the old engine announced the arrival of the red-head, Lace looking up from her phone as Gabe pulled up next to her. She opened the door, settled herself in the passenger seat.

"You're two minutes late." she scolded playfully, shutting the door and buckling herself in.

He gave her a sheepish, apologetic smile, compulsively scratching at the back of his head. "I'm really sorry, there was an accident at Main and Second…"

She scoffed, waving a hand dismissively at him. "I'm kidding, you know that. We should really go or we'll miss showtime."

**_Pairing_****: BlakkxWar ****_Prompt_****: Mafia**

The door slid open, light clicking betraying the entrance of perhaps one of his favored running-scouts. His nose was assaulted with the heavy scent of clove smoke with just the barest touches of a rosy perfume in the undertone, head turning to look over his shoulder at the tall slender woman.

As expected, the smoky culprit was dangling from between her lips, hand on her hip while the other was occupied with one of the newer model rifles. Devious glint in those abyssal blue eyes told him silently that her job had been completed appropriately. Turning about, it drew a low chuckle from him.

"I can see the new driver is working out for you." he stated, striding toward her. "And what of our shipment? Did it make it this time?"

Lips shifted upward, exhale blowing a prominent cloud from fanged maw to encircle her head in a halo of smoke. "It made it zis time. I made absolutely certain of it."

One of his hands had reached out to tilt her head upward, eyes meeting in that indirect affection. "Good girl." Rare legitimate praises given, his free hand made careful advancement on the cigarette.

**_Pairing_****: BlakkxWar ****_Prompt_****: Medieval/Royalty**

Adelaide scoffed, inspecting the bottom hem on her daughter's skirts, stained with dirt across the powder-blue satin. "What have you been dragging this through! You know the Lord Blakk is visiting today on his annual business…"

She sounded upset, as she usually did, humming under her breath as she tried to find some way to fix the blemish quickly. Fae sighed at her mother's nitpicking, trying to pull away without ruining the fabric further.

"I had to exercise Bucephalus, you pulled me out of bed und dressed me before I had a chance to." she scoffed, crossing her arms at her chest to which her mother gave up the endeavor at the hem and smacked them back down.

"Ladies do not cross their arms." Adelaide chided before sighing. "Hopefully he will not notice… Go see your father. He is waiting downstairs."

Fae rolled her eyes, but said no more, leaving as asked and heading for the foyer. She was not expecting to turn a corner and come into contact with a black monolith. She almost spat some small venom until she caught sight of the crest and bit her tongue against it.

There was a low rolling chuckle from Thaddius at the intrusion, a strange glint in those green eyes as he stepped backwards some and bowed his head in greeting. "Excuse me, Princess. I arrived earlier than expected."

"It's fine." she assured him before backing herself a step and giving a half-hearted curtsy in return, with correction. "It ist alright."

"Your father is already moved on ahead. Thought you should know." he told her, moving passed before giving that distinctive shark's grin. "Your muck makes an interesting contrast."

He was gone before he could catch sight of those reddening cheeks of hers. No doubt, he would have a few choice words for those, as well.

**_Pairing_****: BlakkxWar ****_Prompt_****: Pirates**

"How did I _ever_ let you talk me into this?"

Up ahead, the ebon-maned privateer shrugged. She had already peeled off the first several layers of coats and coverings, leaving little more than a flimsy white shirt of almost thread-bare cotton between ivory flesh and the heated moisture of the Caribbean jungles.

"You vanted to see ze vorld, T'adi." That absolutely _abhorred_ shortname of hers for him, but at this point, he was little more than boiling and besides a snarl in her direction, he didn't feel much like correcting her. "See your trade routes und all. Not mein fault ve lost a gute portion of our fresh vater in ze last storm." Here, she hopped the ridge, voice sounding further and further away as she moved, tested the terrain. "Besides. You could haf stayed on ze _Jericho_ und vaited…"

He grumbled, scrambling after her. "Almost wish I had."

He had barely crested the ridge when he heard her shout, looking down to see her pointing ahead. Through the tangle of trees and foliage, something glittered, dappled by sunlight patterning through the canopy above it.

_Water…_


	9. Microdrabble Compilation III

**_Pairing_****: BlakkxWar ****_Prompt_****: Supernatural [the genre not the show]**

Lost.

Not that he would admit such, even to himself. If asked, he would have very seriously stated he had purposely found himself in the tangle of trunks and roots, thorns and thick undergrowth.

His mind drifted to the reason for this arduous trek and he inwardly cursed putting trust in that fae-bitch. Why, just this morning, he had been comfortably standing at his coffee-maker and hadn't believed a word of faeries existing outside pastel watercolor drawings in a children's book. Why couldn't he have just ignored the antlered visage when it came creeping up to his window. Of course, she would leave him behind as soon as he got into the thick of it. What he wouldn't give to be back in modern comforts…

Almost on cue, as though called by his mental cursings, she reappeared, perched on an upturned root and staring at him with those hauntingly dark eyes. Pointed ears at the base of those red-threaded antlers twitched as her head canted before single clawed finger pointed ahead of him.

"T'ey are zere…"

The butchered English made him cringe a bit, but he never expected some backwards creature to have even a hint of knowledge about human tongues to begin with. Long story short, this was a bit of a surprise how well she could communicate; he would have to see if he could delve into how well she could later. Musings off linguistics, he stared ahead, through the bramble and the thicket, the direction she was pointing.

A cluster of tall figures, all matte black and bent at odd angles, were slowly shambling up some unseen path toward him. "What are they?"

She moved, lightning quick, behind his right shoulder, next to his ear. "Bad geister. Sehr bad geister. Only evil can destroy evil; only one vill stand."

His head snapped around to see that she had left him again. Useless faebeast… A crunching screeching drew his attention to the entities of before, having crossed the distance surprisingly quickly and pushing through the wood of the tangled trees ahead. White eyes were visible now, long pointed teeth and sharply-pointed fingers making quick work of the wood and thorned vines, trying to reach for him.

He hid the startle at how fast they had crossed their distance and reached at his right hip. There was nothing there, a low grumble at the inconvenience before he squared himself off and readied for the coming onslaught of apparently-carnivorous spirits.

**ElixAndi - ****_Bruises_**

There was something wrong.

She recognized the sound of Lucky as the mech was ridden up toward the hideaway and at first, from far off, it sounded normal. It wasn't until it was closer that she heard the subtle sparking grind of metal on metal passed the mechanical drone.

Andi poked her head around the corner into the main cavern cautiously from the niche in the rock wall, catching sight of the wolf-mech as it came closer and closer to her. It took a second to notice that there was a small puffing trail of smoke emitting with a cloud of sparks from Lucky's left hind-leg, a faint limp in the mech's movements.

Eli was riding still upright on seat, which was a good sign. He was holding his left shoulder and wincing, though. Not such a good sign, especially with the distinct absence of Kord, Trixie, or Pronto anywhere nearby. A twinge settled in her stomach, something she had felt before. It was heavy, unpleasant.

She ran out into the open, caught the strained smile on his face when he saw her and pulled to a stop. He could already see the panic starting to pool in her body before she began to show it outwardly and tried to worm his way around what he knew already to be the source of it.

"Hey, the others are behind me, they'll be along in a second, I'm su—"

He was stopped mid-sentence by her next exclamation as he slid with a small stumble to the ground, Burpy setting off a small series of scolding chirps from Lucky's head. Andi made herself heard easily, trying to pry his supporting hand off his shoulder. "Shit! Are you bleeding!?"

"What?" he asked in partial surprise before backing away with a slight wince and giving a vigorous shake of his head. "No! No, it's just … just sprained a bit, promise!"

Her face scrunched up in a combination of determination and worry at the distinct stutter, one foot stomping with her little hands balled into fists at her side, arms stiff and locked. It took her a second before she was finally able to blurt out, "Eli Shane, you asshat, I'm a bit too corporeal to help you by going _through_ your damned hand! So _move it_!"

The unified roar of two more familiar mechs (and the coughing of one) sounded from down the road, though her mind was more set on getting the unwilling Shane to comply. Thankfully, he seemed to see no other way out of dodging the metaphoric bullet that was the fuming Andi and gingerly pulled his hand away.

To her relief, there was no blood, or at least not even enough to stain if there was. Even checking around his bony shoulder and under the shirt (much to his unheard protest) proved fruitless to anything too dire. Realizing the worst of what he might get was a bruise, she sighed. In that one exhale, it felt like all the worry and concern that had been building dissipated completely and she was left feeling strangely relaxed.

"Can I … put my shirt back…" Eli started, looking around almost nervously. There was no need for him to finish the sentence really, and she caught on almost immediately.

"Yes. Yes you may." she huffed, placing her hands on her hips and leveling her gaze on him, scrutinizing. "And watch yourself out there next time, you ass. I won't be doing this again."

All he could do was chuckle a bit at it. "Noted."

**BlakkxWar - ****_Needles_**

Small whimper managed to escape, bottom lip bitten to muffle the noise as much as she could. Forehead rested against the tabletop, cool against her skin, ebon mane left flowing in inky tendrils to obscure sight. Fingers against the table edge curled, arm tensing. Deep inhale, waiting for the feel of cold metal puncturing skin of her lower left arm.

Comforting grip around her left wrist tightened, reassuring to keep her calm and give her fair warning of the needle sliding through the ivory flesh and pulling thread through. At the continued flinch, he gave off an almost amused chuckle.

"Never thought that you, of all people, would be afraid of needles." Thaddius rumbled at her, trying once to find abyssal blue gaze through the makeshift blinder of hair. "Although, my title of 'Doctor' certainly also doesn't mean I have a degree in medicine. So I suppose there are worse things…"

There was mild exasperation in her reply, obviously trying to take her mind off the idea that he was doing his best to see her wound closed and taken care of. "I don't trust ze actual medical kind."

"And yet, you completely put your trust in _me_. I could question your judgement in this logic, you know."

"Vill you?"

"I said I could. Not that I would." He chuckled a bit at that, delivering a particularly harsh pricking of the needle into the edge of the slicing cut along her arm, watching her flinch again. "You know, a proper doctor would have anesthetics and sedatives for you…"

"Can't trust zem, especially vit' zat." she strained. "So I vill haf to take mein chances vit' you."

His right brow snapped up at that, practically stabbing her with the needle now and none-too-gently pulling the thread through. His ears were treated to a grated cry of, "Fuck!_Fuck_!" out of her, her right hand clenching so hard that he honestly feared for the condition of the table in her grip. Needless to say, it was satisfying.

"This is why you need a real doctor, my dear. I seem to have grown a slight _careless_…" he told her, not even trying to hide the self-satisfied smirk on his face at it.

"You're a _fucking_ asshole, you know zat!" she snarled at him before snarling something under her breath in her native German. "Und your bedside manner ist horrid."

She was given another low chuckle, knowing. "Doctors are not supposed to have a 'bedside manner'. Regardless of being a medical practitioner or having doctorates. That's what nurses are for."

"You need a nurse." she grumbled.

"Perhaps you can be mine." The taunt was met with a scoff before he added as an afterthought, "Though, with your typically cynical nature, I am sure you would not be much better versed in it than I am." The thread was tied off, snipped, her wounded forearm sterilized further and wrapped. "The needle is done now, my dear. You can come out of hiding."

Her grip on the table-edge had let up, head lifting to glance through her curtaining mane before shaking it out of the way. "Danke. For putting up vit' zis."

"I consider it a bonus. Peeling away at developmental layers, as it were." he assured her, tucking the final edge of the bandage under. His freed right hand reached forward, lifted her head carefully under her chin. Eyes were raised to level with his, muted jade to abyssal blue. "You are also staying here until it is time to remove stitches. Understand?"

Prussian gave him a disgruntled expression at this; he could already see the urge to wander growing. "Ja…"

Her face shifted to an amused smile with a chortling laugh when he bent down and planted a kiss to the scar shredding across her nose, gentle. "And … you really should see an actual doctor."

A crooked smile crossed his face to mirror his low chuckle when she groaned in exasperation at the suggestion.


End file.
